


Please be Precise

by accol



Category: Luther (TV), Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: F/F, Hair-pulling, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Masturbation, Size Kink, Temperature Play, Threesome - M/M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:55:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accol/pseuds/accol
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>BBC Sherlock drabbles, including Supernatural and Luther crossovers.  Originally written for fivesentencesmut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_Anonymous asked: SherlockxJohn, fluffy proposal_

“You… is that tea?  That  you  made?”  John quirked his head to the side and looked from Sherlock to the tea tray and back again.  “ You made that for  me ?  Oh, God.  Is that Devonshire cream there?”

John had never told Sherlock directly that he would actually wallow in Devonshire cream whilst making obscene moaning noises if he could find a vat of it big enough, but apparently Sherlock had figured it out somehow… like he always did. 

Around a mouthful of scone and cream, John said suspiciously, “You never make tea.  What’s going on?”

Sherlock’s dressing gown had come undone and John stopped chewing, swallowing dryly, at the sight of Sherlock overhanding his fully erect cock as he watched John with a raised eyebrow and a gold band around his ring finger.  John couldn’t be arsed to be annoyed that Sherlock was apparently proposing marriage with breakfast foods and masturbation, because really this was the sweetest thing this man had ever done and there was no way that John was saying anything but  _I do_ . ****


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Watersports

_Anonymous asked: Sherlock/John; For a case, Sherlock needs to know how long a healthy adult male can hold their full bladder for, while being plied with water… He seizes on John as his experiment subject, setting a cup to the doctor’s lips himself, in order to control the study better. John’s restraint is remarkable, but eventually he ends up wetting himself. Sherlock is aroused…_

Sherlock stood, fingers drumming lightly against his chin as he watched John clench his thigh muscles, close his eyes and attempt to look serene, cross and uncross his legs, bounce his knee; then he plied John with another half liter of water. That made three liters and 47 minutes since John had evacuated his bladder; and 12 minutes since his face had begun to flush. Sherlock took in every detail of the way John’s teeth pulled at his lips, how his eyes appeared to express a clear sense of pleading when they weren’t squeezed shut, and of how John pressed the heel of his hand down hard over his penis whilst watching Sherlock; he wondered how it felt, if John’s pelvic muscles were tiring.

John yelped and reddened more deeply as urine leaked to the floor, “I… I couldn’t anymore,” he whispered, his face relaxing and looking nearly blissful, perhaps post-orgasmic; John slumped in the chair, apparently unable to muster the energy to be embarrassed. 

Sherlock’s most shocking revelation was that his own cock had gone hard in his trousers, and the heel of his own hand felt most satisfactory as he pressed down upon it.


	3. Chapter 3

_Anonymous asked: Sherlock/John; Flying is NOT Sherlock’s favourite activity. It bores him immensely, so he starts observing and deducing details about every single passenger on a full plane, until John is ready to strangle him. Cue John marching Sherlock off to the toilet and shagging him rough and passionate until Sherlock finally settles down_

“A most welcome  _Welcome_  to your flight with MJN Air with us.  I’m your flight attendant Arthur, and you’re welcome to choose from our in-flight meal choices on tonight’s flight today which are…”

Sherlock’s fingers gripped at the armrest, crushing John’s hand in the process; his irritation at flying was making his knee bounce… it was a sort of barometer for his level of annoyance, really, and John watched the pace quicken and slow with every awkward word that came over the intercom.  Sherlock’s other hand shot out, finger pointed and thrusting toward the call button; John already knew what condescension was about to be piled upon the steward and — deserved or not — John wasn’t about to sit through that kind of thing again.

John grabbed Sherlock’s wrist and dragged him down the aisle, shoving him as discreetly as possible into the loo; Sherlock’s protests were swallowed up by John’s kiss, his wrists still in John’s strong hands, now pressed against the mirror as John frotted against him, hard and relentless until Sherlock’s struggling gave way to rapid breathing and a whispered “ _John_.”


	4. Chapter 4

_Anonymous asked: Superlock. Moriarty/Chuck/Moran. Chuck isn’t sure what he’s got himself into._

The huge man hissed through the leather hood when Moriarty’s palm connected with his ass, a bright red hand print showing up on the man’s pale skin. 

Chuck took a step backward, sputtering, “Oh, I— I didn’t quite know what you meant when you said horse riding, I guess?” The man’s massive cock was fully hard and dripping to the floor beneath him; he arched and flexed his back, shaking his head from side to side and then meeting Chuck’s eyes directly.

A smile spread across Moriarty’s face like liquid. “I think you Americans might have a different term for what I have in mind,” he said, his voice curling around Chuck like a great hand pulling him close. Moriarty slid against Chuck and carefully unzipped Chuck’s jeans in a fluid motion, slipping his warm palm inside and slowly jerking Chuck’s hardening dick. “I think you might call this a donkey show.” 

Chuck’s eyes went painfully wide as he imagined the hooded man’s cock splitting him open, fear mingling with curiosity as Moriarty awaited Chuck’s answer, still expertly stroking with a cat’s smile upon his lips.


	5. Chapter 5

_Anonymous asked: Supernatural/Sherlock - Moriarty/Chuck/Sebastian: Voyuerism. Moriarty likes to watch his toys play with each other._

Moriarty leaned back in the armchair and let out a faint sigh of satisfaction, taking a sip from his tea and quietly reveling in the display before him. Just past the pointed toe of his wingtip, Chuck lay pinned beneath a ferociously thrusting Moran; Chuck’s whimpers went straight to Jim’s groin, his obvious pleasure at the stinging abuse his body was taking was particularly invigorating.

Chuck’s rather short legs tried to wrap up and around Sebastian’s hips, changing the angle and at the last minute turning his eyes up to Moriarty in a belated request for permission.

“Would you like to come?” Moriarty asked quietly, setting down his teacup and palming himself through the open fly of his trousers while he considered it, Moran still pumping away. “Bite his shoulder when you do. I want to see your teeth leaving my mark.”


	6. Chapter 6

_Anonymous asked: Superlock. Sherlock/Dean. Dean’s getting tired of Sherlock being a mouthy know-it-all all and decides to put the detective’s mouth to better use._

“What’s the 10-4, good buddy?” Dean said, stepping out of the Impala and sidling up to Sherlock where he stood looking over the body. “Are those werewolf claw marks?”

Sherlock looked up, straight ahead, and then turned to Dean as if the “good buddy” comment personally offended his Englishness. “They are certainly not werewolf injuries. I thought you were the best hunter in this country,” Sherlock replied.

Dean’s eyebrows almost found his hairline. “Alright, you freakin’ limey know-it-all. Get in the car. It’s time for a little research of the Dean Winchester variety.”

Sherlock’s little smirk wasn’t lost on Dean thirty minutes later as Dean knelt above his chest, jerking himself off across Sherlock’s pink lips… and, fuck, if it wasn’t obvious that Sherlock had goaded him into this all along.


	7. Chapter 7

_Anonymous asked: Superlock. SherlockXSam. Sherlock is intrigued with the demon blood drinking man. Bottom!Sam._

“I would like you to describe in detail the way that your body and mind respond when you drink,” Sherlock said, looking Sam over appraisingly, noting the substantial erection inside his overly tight jeans. “Please be precise in your language.”

Stanford’s educational standards must be slipping because Sam barely grunted, choosing instead to push Sherlock down on the chaise and throw his notepad into the corner of the study. Then again, this was a rather creative way to directly show Sherlock the intensity of the demon blood-fueled mania that Sam experienced, so perhaps full marks were deserved after all. Particularly compelling was the sight of Sam’s nude, sweat shiny form as he descended upon Sherlock, mouthing him to full hardness with a brutally brilliant tongue followed by a quick, efficient thrust of his arse down upon Sherlock’s length. Sherlock was rarely intimidated, but the supernatural fever that roiled in Sam’s eyes as he fucked himself on Sherlock’s cock was enough to just about do it.


	8. Chapter 8

_Anonymous asked: Sherlock/Luther crossover, Alice/Irene, leather, ice_

Irene carded pale fingers through Alice’s flaming hair, slowly curling her hand into a fist before yanking her head back; she lowered herself into Alice’s lap, the leather of her corset pressing cool against Alice’s breasts.

Alice hissed through her teeth, smirking and challenging Irene to give her more, she could take the pain… she craved it, perhaps deserved it.  The sharp, immediate chill of the ice against Alice’s nipple was hidden from her view with Irene’s hand still pulling her hair, and the chill turned to pain as the seconds crawled by.  

“Enough?” Irene asked in a purr.

Alice thrust her hips upward, grinding her mound against the smooth touch of Irene’s pants and silently wishing for more friction, some heat to counter the cold, and her red lips formed the word “Never.”


End file.
